


A Gift For An Emperor

by itspixiesthings



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Abuse, Aphrodisiacs, BAMF Hux, BDSM, Bondage, Branding, Dom Hux, Dom/sub, Drug Use, Emperor Hux, Empire AU, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, Forced Feminization, Humiliation, Hux is Not Nice, M/M, Master/Slave, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Slave Ben Solo, cockring, cocksucking, muzzle/gag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 14:47:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6961288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itspixiesthings/pseuds/itspixiesthings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if the Empire was never defeated? Anakin Skywalker never survived to become the legendary Darth Vador, but Palpatine was able to take over the Galaxy on his own, many other Dark Side users ready to take Skywalker's place at his side. Luke never made it off of Tatooine to follow in his fathers footsteps, and the Rebel Alliance was crushed.</p><p>Since the death of Emperor Palpatine a generation later, a new Emperor has taken his place, having risen through the ranks of the Empire by methods both devious and cutthroat. His name is Hux. When the Rebellion attempts to rise again, Emperor Hux is quick to crush them once more under his heel. The surviving civilians offer up a tribute to their Emperor as a means to gain his favor: The son of the once proud Rebellion leader, Leia Organa, to atone for their transgressions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick WARNING: This fic features extremely dubious consent and sexual torture, please read with discretion!

The Emperor's eyes took in the shaking form in front of him. The male Twi'lek stood below the throne, before the steps that lead up to the raised dais upon which Emperor Hux sat. He regarded the man with an expression of bored irritation, his chin resting in one hand, the other thrumming it's fingers upon the arm of the chair. He knew the effect his glower had upon the lesser beings that he ruled over, and he took a depraved kind of delight in watching them squirm.  
  
He was dressed in a kind of stylistic refinery, a military affair met with the best quality the Galaxy had to offer. Jet black uniform with a red cape draped off the shoulder. His hair was a bright orange, bringing his sharp features into focus. Well groomed, cut to perfection. Upon his head sat a silver circlet of handcrafted flowers, the most elaborate feature on his otherwise simple and sleek regalia.  
  
His officers stood on either side of the elderly man below, blasters at the ready should he attempt to do anything... _unadvised_. Not that he was likely to. He was trembling with the mere weight of his situation, and that suited the Emperor just fine.  
  
“Please... My Lord Emperor.. I..I've come on behalf of my people to beg for leniency... for..for _mercy_.”  
The man's voice shook, a breathless, panicked sound that made a smile tug at the corners of the Emperor's lips. With a wave of his hand he stared down at him, barely paying him much mind as he spoke, his words spoken with a bored kind of tone. As though dealing with this was all _beneath_ him.  
  
“Your people rose up against me in rebellion, Gimbrava. I cannot have the remnants of the old Rebel Alliance resurface to cause havoc in my Empire. There is no mercy for treason.” He let the man squirm, the metal chains that bound his hands clinking as he clenched and unclenched his fists.  
  
“ _Please!_ My Emperor... the fault was not with them.. they.. they were led. Please don't punish the innocent civilians of this world for the uprising of a few.”  
  
Hux's eyes took pleasure in moving across the man's form, scrutinizing his every movement and body language. The way his back hunched, his shoulders shook and his knees knocked. This was the fear he was used to inspiring. It put him in a good mood. His eyes narrowed as his mouth turned up in a cruel smirk.  
  
“Well, you heard the terms for the acceptance of your surrender. Have you brought me a suitable tribute?” The man's shoulders visibly slumped at that, his head hanging low for a moment. _Good._ After a pause, he lifted his head again to meet the eyes of the man towering over him. An almost imperceptible nod.  
  
“Yes... My Lord Emperor.” His eyes moved back to stare at the floor after uttering the words, his voice filled with reluctance and sorrow. The officer to his side laughed a cruel laugh at that, waving a hand as he turned towards the door behind them. “Send him in!” The hard voice of the Imperial rang out through the room, and Hux leaned forward in his chair to watch, the closest his face had come to betraying interest.  
  
A Xabrac male, hired mercenary, came into view. He was dressed in leathers and had in hand a gold chain. The large man gave the chain a sharp pull, the sound of clinking metal filling the room before a muffled cry of rage rang out. Another man was dragged into the room as the Xabrac marched inwards, unconcerned with the punishing pace he was setting for the man at the other end of the chain.  
  
He was tall, broad, and very, very naked. Hux's eyes were immediately captivated by the solid muscles on display, the male body shining with perfection under the red light of the room. His pale skin was perfectly set in contrast to the long locks of jet black hair that had been wrangled into a braid down the man's back. The Emperor shifted in his seat, a gloved hand coming up to play on his lips as he took in the spectacle.  
  
Gold jewellery was draped across the hard looking form. A long necklace chain, connecting to a similar chain around his middle. Cuffs on his upper arms, bringing out the curve of his biceps. Earrings dangling from his earlobes – very prominent ears, the Emperor noticed, practically begging for more piercings. Gold was woven into his hair. Cuffs bound his hands in front of him, with even more tight restriction than the elder who was standing before him begging for mercy. Similar cuffs were on his ankles, not currently in use, but waiting to restrict the boy further if needed.  
  
And, most impressively, was the gold ring around the base of his cock. He was already hard and straining, the thick length standing tall and proud. Probably drugged with aphrodisiacs to get him into such a state. The Emperor could feel his own loins stiffen at the glorious sight, the length of the prisoner adorned with jewellery that maximized it's beauty as well as it's status as _property._  
  
But perhaps most striking of all was the black muzzle that bound the male's mouth. It covered the lower half of his face, restricting his breathing so that every breath drawn sounded forced and ragged. Even as he attempted to shout expletives and rage fuelled threats to his captors, all that could be heard was muffled grunts that made him sound more animal than human. As he was dragged into the room, the chain attached to a black and red collar around his throat, he pulled and struggled, his eyes narrowed in anger and fury. They were so large, so expressive, those eyes.  
  
The Xabrac came forward before the throne, placing himself beside the still trembling rebel leader, who looked away in shame as the captive was pulled along with him. The officer at his side kicked in the back of the boy's knees, forcing him with a painful cry to the floor before his hand was on his back, pushing him forward before the seat of the Emperor.  
  
“ _Bow_ before the Emperor, _boy_.” The cruel voice hissed the words in his ear, loud enough to be heard by all in the room. Hux quirked a brow at the display, rising with slow and calculated movements to his feet. He took his time descending the steps towards the offered tribute, his heels clicking against the marble floor beneath him. Finally he came to stand directly before the kneeling captive, leaning down to grasp his chin within a gloved hand.  
  
His fingers wrenched the boy's face up to look at him, forcing eye contact. He tilted his head this way and then that, scrutinizing and inspecting this kneeling prisoner at his feet. There was makeup on his face, expertly applied, bringing out his features into sharp focus. The boy's eyes never left his, fury and anger seething behind them, brows narrowed in hatred as he glared up at him. The Emperor's expression turned to disgust as he looked into those eyes that were burning with fire.  
  
“There is _defiance_ in this boy's eyes... He looks like he'd rather bite my fingers off than serve my throne.” He let go of his chin, casting him aside with a rough toss. His gaze going to the shaking man staring at his feet. His nose curled in distaste as his eyes narrowed at the pitiful rebel leader.  
“You bring me an _untrained slave_ as my tribute?”  
  
There was a moment of silence before the Imperial officer stepped forward, coughing to clear his throat, bowing his head towards the man. “My Lord Emperor... begging your pardon. But we thought you might enjoy breaking this one in yourself... on account of who he is.”  
  
A brow quirked as he looked towards his subordinate before letting his gaze travel back to the insolent eyes of the prisoner kneeling before him. “Oh? You have my interest. Who is he?” His voice betrayed no emotion, but his eyes burned with curiosity. Just who was this broad shouldered, well built, and enraged captive at his feet?  
  
“His name is _Ben Solo_... and he is the son of the infamous Leia Organa.” Hux's eyes widened, just slightly, as he processed that information. Renewed interest made him lean forward to re-inspect the prize. The boy's body shook with restrained rage, but out of spite refused to flinch even as he drew closer to him. The eyes that stared into his were angered, hate filled, and they did not falter.  
  
“Force sensitive, too. The collar around his neck has inhibitors in place, but we hear he has quite a bit of raw talent. Apparently he was rather _instrumental_ in the uprising as well.” That made a thrill of glee rush through the Emperor's heart, cruel enjoyment for the way such a high profile enemy had been so stripped of power, brought low before him. “Oh... you don't say...”  
  
He watched the boy below him, who dared to continue to hold his gaze, defiant eyes shooting daggers at him. Usually such insolence would be rewarded with a swift death... but... His eyes roamed the naked form. The boy's body was still shaking, from a combination of rage, adrenaline, and drugged euphoria. His cock looked painfully hard, which made the Emperor's lips turn in sadistic glee. He had no doubt the boy was suffering. Precum was dripping from the angry reddened tip, weeping with need for release.  
  
He stood back to his full height, turning to look at the shame filled rebel leader, who's eyes were still averted from the goings on beside him. _Coward._  
“I accept your tribute.” He waved a hand in a dismissive gesture, his gaze turning out of the corner of his eye to the mercenary who still held the boy on a leash. “Have him taken to my quarters.”  
  
At that word the Xabrac nodded, yanking the gagged and bound form of the captive to his feet. As the collar bit into his neck, the boy let out a stifled cry of pain, his breathing harsh and drawn out as he stumbled, feet scrambling to find purchase. He was dragged away with a struggle, hands clenched before him in the chains. Hux watched him go for a moment, admiring the curve of his body, the shape of his taut muscles and perfectly sculpted ass, before his attention was drawn back to the surrendered rebel leader.  
  
“You.. you'll accept our surrender, then?” The man's feeble voice rang out, a stuttering struggle of speech through terrified lips. “You wont harm my people?”  
The Emperor fixed his cold eyes on the Twi'lek, the ghost of a smirk playing on his mouth. His voice was patient, smooth and silky as he eyed the man up.  
  
“Yes... I will accept your _unconditional_ surrender. The people of Lianna will not be harmed. Now, you are going to tell me the names of all of the leaders involved in this little uprising.” His eyes turned to the officer once again, who stood to attention under the intensity of his gaze. “Take the names down.”  
  
“I..” The rebel leader looked into the barrel of the blaster to his left, the other officer keeping a firm grip on both his arm and the gun. It was pressed in a moment to his neck, his reluctance to cooperate spurring the rougher treatment. Within moments he was rattling off a list of names, six in total including his own. Each name was tapped into a datapad by the cold fingers of the officer to his right.  
  
When he was done, the Emperor walked back to his throne, seating himself with a regal motion, draping himself across the seat, and fixing his stern gaze on the rebel. He gave a short nod to the officer before speaking again.  
  
“Arrange to hold a public execution for all of the leaders of the uprising. Minus the boy.. of course.” His lips turned into a cruel smile as he thought of the son of one of the Empire's greatest enemies, naked and bound in his chambers, just _waiting_ for him. And Force sensitive... _that_ held all number of possibilities. He nodded to the officer with the blaster trained on the man. “Take him away.”  
  
The rebel leader gave a cry of fear and anguish, pulling his arm away from the man as he took a tentative step towards the throne. “ _What!_ You.. you accepted our surrender! You said you would be _merciful!_ ” Hux's gaze turned to the man, a sharp frown marring his features.  
  
“I _am_ being merciful.” He spat the words at the man, his irritation bubbling to the surface as he leaned forward where he sat. “I could just as easily destroy your _entire wretched little planet._ Every last person upon it, _dead_ at my command. Instead, I am going to allow the citizens to live.” His eyes narrowed. “You said it yourself, the people were lead. I will only exact punishment on the leaders who instigated this uprising. Be thankful, Senator Gimbrava. You have managed to spare the lives of your followers with your sacrifice.”  
  
The man seemed about to speak again, his mouth gaping open, but the Emperor's voice rang out to cut him off. “If I hear _another word_ on the subject out of your mouth, I will change. My. _Mind._ ” That shut the man up, though tears were pricking at his eyes as the hands of the officers flanking him gripped his arms once more. His face was awash with despair, his eyes wide and unbelieving as he stared up at the man who held his fate in his hands, and had decided without pause that he was to die.  
  
“ _Take him away._ ”

 


	2. Chapter 2

Ben struggled as the mercenary pulled him along by the leash, his neck jerked forward despite his efforts to pull away. The struggle only managed to choke him more, his breathing ragged as he struggled to draw breath through the gag. Once down the hall from the audience room, the Xabrac came to a halt before two Imperial officers. The sudden ceasing of motion caused him to stumble, his feet entangle with themselves as he tried to stop the forward movement, caught by the neck from falling to the floor. He looked up with wild eyes at the men before him as the leash changed hands.  
  
“The Emperor wants him taken to his quarters” There was a snicker from the officers as they exchanged a knowing look, their eyes roaming over his naked flesh. He growled in response, his nose crinkled in rage at the obvious lust filling their eyes. Though his whole body was on fire, aching for a touch, _any_ touch, his mind was a tempest of fury. He stared them down even as they reached forward to grasp him by the arms, taking delight in jerking him forward with the leash.  
  
“Very good, we'll take him from here.” The mercenary nodded in acknowledgement before turning on his heel to march away. And then he was being dragged again, the officers barely deigning to glance at the captive they had in tow between them. His neck ached and his hands stung, but his anger was not fuelled by anything as petty as pain. He growled, tossed his head, and dug in his heels despite the futile nature of the gesture, knowing it would not get him anywhere. They barely responded, though by the time they had reached the large and elaborate doors leading to the Emperor's personal chambers, they had become terse, their lips pressed into straight lines. _Good_. He would cause them as much trouble as he possibly could.  
  
Finally the doors opened, their destination reached. He looked up to take in the large room, richly furnished and decorated with ornate tapestries. The Empire's flag hung upon one wall, the Emperor's personal family crest on another. The room was expansive, and he found another bout of rage flaring up at the remembrance of the living conditions he and his family had been forced to subsist in, in contrast to the supreme decadence that the Emperor apparently enjoyed.  
  
He didn't have much time to reflect, however, as he was pushed into the room. Strong hands forced him to his knees, pain shooting through his legs as he crashed once again to the floor. There would be bruises there, he was certain. His cry of pain was stifled by the gag still restricting his breath and choking his throat. Within moments his hands were unclasped from in front of him and pulled behind his back, the chains replaced to restrain him more thoroughly. The leash was fixed to a metal ring in the floor, secured at a short enough length to make sure he could not sit up, keeping him painfully bent over.  
  
He glared up at the guards, his eyes his only semblance of a weapon now. Stripped of everything, of the Force, of his clothes, of his hands and even his voice, he used his eyes as his only means of lashing out. As small a gesture as it was, one of the officers found it suitably offensive, and before he had a moment to realize what was happening, pain exploded through his ribs as a booted heel connected with his flesh. “That'll teach you, boy!” The officer glared down at him, sadistic glee dancing in his eyes as the boy coughed and sputtered, grunts of pain leaving his throat.  
  
The other man put his hand out, frowning at his companion. “Hey now! Don't be too rough with him... wouldn't want to _break_ the Emperor's new toy before _he_ even has a chance to.” The other man nodded with reluctance, stepping back from the trembling form kneeling on the ground. Not another word was said as they left the room, the lights going dim in their absence, throwing Ben into darkness.  
  
And he waited. There was nothing else he could do. His rage did not abate the longer the time drew out, though each passing second brought the sinister taint of fear closer to the surface of his mind. What would the Emperor do with him? As he knelt in the darkened room, the scent of cologne and cigarra smoke hanging thick around him, he was flooded with the memories of the hours leading up to this precarious moment in his life.  
  
He remembered fighting, using the Force to hurl enemies this way and that as he fought them off one by one. His powers were raw and untrained, but he used them to his fullest capabilities, feeling the rush of the stream of power flowing through his veins as he stretched out his hands. He liked to imagine himself as a Jedi of old, wielding a lightsaber instead of a blaster. But that ancient and forgotten order was not enough of an inspiration to stem the tides of the Empire's might.  
  
He remembered the surrender, as it became apparent that the Empire would win. The rush of people, injured, afraid, scattered. The smell of dirt and blood. The decree: The Emperor would accept their surrender if, and only if, a _suitable tribute_ was offered to his throne as a sign of their compliance. The people whispering amongst themselves, what could they possibly offer to appease an Emperor? They had nothing.  
  
Before he knew what was happening, Stormtroopers and Imperial officers were marching through the camp with hired mercenaries to bolster their force, and they were coming for _him_. He was fighting alone now, his own allies turned away, those he counted as friends doing nothing as he fought. He cried out in rage and agony at the sting of betrayal and defeat. Sweat stuck his hair to his skin as a collar clamped around his neck, and then there was the sudden sickening sensation of feeling the Force cut off from him. It was like loosing his sight, or sense of touch. Suddenly nothing made sense, and in his disorientation he was forcibly dragged away. The sound of screams filling his ears. His own screams. He had kicked, struggled, bit. Lashing out in any way he could as they restrained his body and forced him into a shuttle.  
  
The memory of the scent of chemical and sterilizer rushed through him. White walls. Clothes stripped from him. His skin still ached, tingling at the memory. He had been washed, power sprayed, his body invaded and prepared. Someone made mention that the Emperor was known to like his toys _hairless._ He was waxed. The screams of pain choked down on the gag, his skin turning bright red in irritation. He was oiled. Smooth liquid pressed into his skin with gloved hands, the feeling of leather on flesh as they made his body gleam. The oil soothed the irritation caused by the waxing at least. _Small mercies._  
  
And then, the final indignation. The drugs. The needles that delved into his veins, lighting him on fire from the inside out. His body had rushed with arousal, blood racing through him, making him gasp and pant. His pupils dilated as his skin began to ache with need for touch. He could feel his cock getting hard despite himself.  
  
As these memories flooded his mind his eyes cast about in the darkness of the Emperor's room. Looking for something to lock onto, something to keep him grounded in reality. He didn't want his mind to wander. He didn't want his anger to cool.  
  
Closing his eyes, he tried to connect with the Force. It had always been there, his entire life. An extra set of senses through which to observe and understand the world around him. It had always flowed through him, a presence that amplified everything, that pulsed in his veins and sang in his ears. It was gone. Not completely removed... like shutting one's eyes, he knew the sense still existed within him, it was just... _blocked._ A growl formed in his throat as he tried to overcome the blockage, reaching out into the room with his mind. But the Force was silent.  
  
He heard the swoosh of the doors, but refused to try to crane his neck to look. Fear bubbled through him, dread as he heard slow footsteps clicking across the floor. Despite himself he could feel his body begin to shake. The Emperor did not deign to notice him right away, instead stalking about the room, shedding his heavy ceremonial coat, folding it neatly to put it away. His movements were methodical. As though there were nothing out of the ordinary.  
  
The way he moved about the space was powerful. In control. He owned this room, and his unconcerned manor only further drove that home. This was _his_ place. The innermost circles of his domain, and he moved through it like a man who had nothing to fear. Ben felt as though he were shrinking in stature with each confidant step the man took. He had the distinct understanding that he was a stranger in this sanctuary that belonged to a more powerful man.  
  
He could smell the room fill with smoke, bitter and harsh, as he heard the sound of a breath exhaling. A chair was dragged over to where he knelt. Boots came into his line of sight. “No no... it's wrong, it's _all_ wrong. The _colour_ is all wrong.” The first words the man had spoken to him since he had returned to his chambers. He watched as the Emperor slowly took a seat beside him. He crossed his leg over his knee, the tip of his boot resting in front of his face. Ben's nose curled in distaste at the sight before the man spoke again, eyeing him intently.  
  
“I think I'm going to have you dressed in _silver_ , instead.” The man casually brought the cigarra to his lips, the end brightening a cheery red. He spoke with a kind of noncommittal informality, as though he were speaking more to himself than to his captive. Ben started, jerking his head up in defiance, eyes burning with hatred at the proclamation. The way the man eyed him as though he were a part of the decor. A mere _object_. The Emperor hardly showed any reaction to his stifled protests, amusement lighting up his cold eyes, a brow raised in playful mischief.  
  
“No? Prefer the gold, do you?” The boy's eyes only glared up at him. The Emperor looked down into those eyes for a few moments, taking a long drag on the cigarra before letting smoke pour out from between his lips. He was used to his subjects avoiding his gaze, averting their eyes and waiting for his pleasure. This one dared to stare directly at him, meeting his eyes with defiance despite the lowly position he had been forced into. “Such impertinence....” He rested his head on his hand, his expression scrutinizing and intent. “We'll have to break you of that. Smoke?” He leaned forward with a cruel smirk, holding the cigarra out in front of the boy's muzzled face. The captive's eyes did not leave his, refusing to be baited again.  
  
“No... I suppose not.” The cigarra was put back between his lips, another drag drawing into his lungs. When he exhaled again he filled the boy's face with the smoke, casually flicking off the ashes into his hair. Ben's eyes narrowed in anger as rage began to surface once more, shaking as he watched the man above him.  
  
“ _So._ ” The redhead leaned back in his chair, his foot coming forward to tilt the boy's face. The leather against his cheek felt cool and soft, but he burned with indignation. His body was straining against the leash to put distance between himself at that boot, but he could not move. “ _You_ are the son of the famed _Leia Organa_ , last surviving Princess of a destroyed world.” His lips were turned in a cruel smile as he taunted the boy. Ben's heart began to race at the mention of his mother, of her history. He growled in frustration, trying to form some kind of response.  
  
Emperor Hux chuckled darkly before spinning the cigarette in his gloved hand. “ _Ben Solo_. Ben... Bennn.. _BenBen_...” As he heard the man uttering his name his eyes narrowed, shooting daggers at him to convey just what he thought of hearing it on those lips. The Emperor paid him no mind, gazing up at the ceiling for a moment as though lost in thought. “Hmm... No, I don't like it. Doesn't roll off my tongue.” His eyes returned to the incensed captive at his feet. “I'll have to come up with a _new_ name for you, I think.”  
  
The man reached out beside him to extinguish the cigarra, his hand crushing it into a bowl before leaving it aside. Ben's eyes never left him, taking in every movement the man made before he leaned forward, his lips curling into a smile. Ben could see his eyes darken with unabashed lust as he inspected his prey, black gloved fingers tapping his chin. “Certainly a _pretty_ thing though, aren't you. I think I'd like to get a better look my newly acquired property...” He put out a hand to grasp the boy's cheek, fingertips playing at the edges of the muzzle.  
  
Ben tried to flinch away from his touch, but the man was too close, and the leash was too tight.  
“Besides...” The Emperors voice was soft and compelling, only the smallest hints of cruelty marring it's gentle nature. “That muzzle looks rather _uncomfortable_. I'm going to take it off... be a good boy for me and behave yourself. Don't make a fuss.”  
  
The straps were undone, the Emperor's hands experienced and firm. A rush of air filled his lungs as he drew a deep breath, and for a moment all that Ben could feel was gratitude. Spit ran over his lips as the gag was removed, freeing his mouth and allowing him more freedom than he had had in hours. He panted, sucking in air, his eyes barely able to focus on the face still looming above him.  
  
The Emperor's eyes lit with desire as he watched the boy struggle for breath, his hand gently caressing his cheek. “ _There now,_ that's better, isn't it?” He could barely restrain a moan of lust from escaping his throat as he passed his thumb over the captive's full lips. He had the most beautiful, boyish features, his lips painted a fetching shade of red. What he would like to _do_ to lips like those...  
  
As Ben felt the finger pressing itself against his mouth he felt a rush of renewed rage, the calming moment passed. With a snarl he lashed out with his teeth, snapping at the hand that clasped his face in so tender a touch. A thrill of satisfaction thrummed through him as he felt his teeth sink into flesh, breaking through the leather, the taste of blood filling his mouth. To his dismay, however, the Emperor did not cry out. Though his face was contorted into an expression of fury, he did not make a sound of pain to dignify the attack. Instead his hand pulled back, swiftly coming forward to strike the boy across the face.  
  
Ben didn't have time to cry out as he felt the force of the blow, his head whipping to the side as the back of the man's hand connected with his cheek. His jaw stung and his eyes watered. The smell of blood filled his senses as he felt warm liquid trickle out of his nose. Before he knew what was happening the man's fingers were laced through his hair, painfully yanking his head backwards. The tension against the leash that bound him to the floor pulled on his neck, making his entire body go taught from the strain.  
  
A cry of pain left his lips as the Emperor leaned in close to him, and Ben could smell the scent of spice and cigarra smoke on his breath. “Now, I want you to fully appreciate your _situation_ , boy.” His voice was soft and lilting, encouraging and friendly despite the the way his hand pulled on his hair and made his body erupt in pain. “Whatever your identity has been up till this moment, it no longer matters. I will strip _all of it_ away from you. _You. Belong. To me._ ”  
  
The captive growled, gasping for breath, this new form of restriction worse than the last. Blood streamed down his face and into his mouth, the taste spinning his head and making him want to gag. Instead he looked directly into the Emperor's eyes, gathered himself, and spat it into his face. “If you think I'm just going to roll over and be your whore...” The first words he had spoken since being dragged away, kicking and screaming, and he hurled them at the red haired man with a vengeance.  
  
The Emperor only laughed, a cruel sound that filled the room, making a shiver run down the boy's spine. “ _Oh, no_... I have _many_ more plans for you than just that...” He watched as the man wiped his face of the blood and spit without losing his composure. He felt the soft texture of leather on his neck as the man caressed his skin, coming to rest almost with a mocking sense of affection on the collar. “ _Force sensitive..._ Eventually we'll get this taken off of you... see what you can do. You are going to be made into my most devastating _weapon_ , boy. My most feared Enforcer. Won't _that_ be ironic.”  
  
The Emperor's lips curled in a cruel sneer before his hand moved to unclip the leash from the collar. Ben felt a rush of air as he was jerked backwards, the hand in his hair pulling him no longer impeded by the restraint. The dim room spun around him as he was pulled onto his back, his arms and wrists seeming to scream as pain shot through them. His knees were already aching from the strain.  
  
“Until then however... yes. You _are_ going to be my whore.” Ben pulled his wrists against the chains that kept them locked beneath him, only to find more pain filling his body. His teeth clenched as he held back from crying out, refusing to give voice to the agony. His hair was released and the man's hands began to roam his body, black leather against his pale skin. As he felt the rush of stimulation he began to shake, hands exploring him without mercy as though he were a new thing to be learned and appreciated.  
  
As the Emperor's eyes bore into his he felt a hand wrap itself around his cock, and the painfully erect member throbbed in reaction. A moan bubbled out from between his lips, unable to stop himself. The drugs in his system made his skin ache, burning for any form of contact, and the moment that contact was given his body swelled to life. Before he knew what was happening, he was panting, shaking and tilting his hips upwards into the man's touch. The ginger laughed, his eyes alight with sadistic mirth as he watched him, the sound of his mocking voice filling Ben's ears and turning his face red with shame.  
  
“ _My my_... all that bluster, anger and hatred... and you turn positively _docile_ with a simple touch.” The leather wrapped around his cock was moving up and down, slow jerks that were driving him insane, his thoughts melting away as sensation overwhelmed him. His cock had been hard for hours already. He felt fit to bursting.  
  
The man's hand released his aching length as his cool eyes fell upon the blooming marks of bruising on his ribs. He frowned, eyes narrowing as he gently placed a few fingers upon it, inspecting it with ginger care. “Oh dear, this wasn't here before... My officers were a little rough with you, where they? I assure you, they will be suitably reprimanded.” This elicited a sharp bark of laughter from Ben, devoid of humour. He had the presence of mind to let a grim smirk turn his lips. “Why Emperor... didn't realize you cared.”  
  
His voice was breathless as the man's hand returned to his cock, idly playing with it as though it were a toy for his amusement. Precum was spilling over the leather glove, his thumb gathering it off the tip to rub it into the shaft. Ben's entire body convulsed, his hips beginning to move on their own, desperately trying to gain further friction. It was useless, he knew. The gold ring, tight at the base, would prevent him from achieving any satisfaction.  
  
“I assure you, boy....” The man's lazy voice filled his ears, “Any marks upon your body will be put there by _me_.” The ginger moved to lean over top of him, and he could feel the heat radiating from him.  
“In all honesty, I _should_ have you _whipped bloody_ for the part you played in that little uprising... but I am a merciful Emperor. If you suck me off like a _good_ little boy, I'll forgive the infraction” As though to punctuate his words, his hand tightened on his cock, fingers moving up and down faster. The captive's body beneath him was writhing, rutting himself up into the Emperor's grasp, the room filling with the sounds of breathless whimpers and moans.  
  
“F.fuc.fuck you..” He managed to chock out the defiant words, but they sounded fake amid the keening noises he could not help but make. The Emperor's other hand moved to stroke his side, moving upwards around his torso, fingertips lightly playing on his skin, his aching, _needing_ skin.  
  
“Unfortunately for you, the drugs they gave you won't wear off yet for some time. I _could_ help alleviate the agonizing need within you, that burning in your skin and the throbbing in your cock. Or I could let you suffer.” As his hands released him the prisoner whined, a mewling, animal sound that crept its way through his throat and passed through trembling lips. “No..! _Please._.”  
  
The Emperor gazed down upon him, a smug grin of satisfaction playing on his own lips as his hands reached around his front. Ben could hear the clink of buckles being undone, the sound of a zipper being pulled as the man's cock was loosed from the military-esque trousers. “You don't _deserve_ release, boy. If I grant it to you, it is because _I am choosing to be merciful_. So if you want any kind of kindness from me, you will worship and please me with that pretty little mouth of yours.” The prisoner watched, his eyes growing wide as he saw the man's erection, fully hard from toying with him. It was thick, and impressively long, a fiery tuft of red hair at the base, trailing upwards towards his stomach. “Put me in an _indulgent mood_.”  
  
  


  
Almost without realizing it, he found his tongue darting out to wet his lips as the Emperor reached out to grasp him by the hair. The man was straddling him, all but sitting on his chest, pushing his hips towards his face. “By the way...” The soft and in control voice of the red headed man sounded in his ears even as that long cock was being pressed against his lips. “If I feel even the _hint_ of teeth.. I will have your cock removed. And it won't save you from being my whore.” The boy's eyes went wide at that threat. Something in the Emperor's voice told him that he was far from kidding around. He hesitated a moment, clamping his mouth shut before the ginger reached back to give his cock another encouraging pump with his hand, and a moan of pure lust parted his lips. He felt the head of the man's length enter his mouth in an instant, forcing it's way to the back of his throat.

A sigh of satisfied desire moved the Emperor, who's eyes closed in pleasure as he rutted into him. “ _Perfect..._ ” he murmured his approval, only the hint of a hitch in his breath. Ben's throat constricted around the intruding length, his lips stretching to accommodate it. Rough hands came forward to grasp him by the hair, pulling him in and not allowing any room for escape. “Your lips look so _pretty_ like that, wrapped around my cock. You have _no idea_ the things I want to do to them. _Such pretty lips.._.”  
  
The taste of sweat and skin flooded him, his tongue feeling the weight of the cock forcing it's way down his throat. He struggled against the hands that held him, feeling his stomach wrench as his gag reflex caused him to tense and heave, but the hands were unyielding as they held him in place. Brought his lips all the way down the shaft until he could feel the man's testicles on his chin, his lips touching his torso. He pulled, writhed, tried to jerk away. “Shh.. sh.. _relax.._.” The Emperor's compelling voice calmed him, made him still, breathing through his nose to keep from gagging.  
  
“That's it... _good boy.._.” The man began to thrust. He felt his eyes watering as the cock moved in and out of him, saliva pooling at the corners of his mouth and spilling out over his chin. He was making a keening whine, groans of struggle and lust meeting the Emperor's heavy breathing. The fingers tangled in his mane of hair tightened, pulling upwards and causing pain to shoot through his scalp.  
  
“This is your place... and you had best learn it well, boy. You will be working to please me for the rest of your life.” Anger burned in the captive's eyes at those words, but he did not dare bite. “Come on, don't just lay there. _Suck._ ” The Emperor's expression was expectant. Ben began to move his mouth, reluctantly, working his lips and tongue to suck on the thick length that threatened to make him choke and gag. The thrusts began to quicken. The man's breathing was becoming harder as he continued to fuck his face.  
  
“That's it... I'm going to cum, and if you spill even a drop, you will be cleaning it up off the floor with your tongue and you won't be given anything to eat but cum for the next week. I hope that I have made myself clear.” His voice was strained, breathless as his grip on his prisoner tightened. Ben could feel the hard cock in his mouth, ramming itself deeper. His own body was throbbing, his cock sore and aching for attention, the humiliation of his position only serving to edge him further.  
  
The Emperor thrust one last time, deep into his throat, and he could feel the hot liquid hitting the back of his mouth, the taste coating his tongue. His stomach turned for a moment, heaving as he rushed to swallow around the man's length, closing his lips to suck off the last drops of cum before the ginger pulled away. The cock leaving his mouth made a squelching sound before blessed air again rushed into his lungs. A wave of relief passed through him as he looked up at the man towering over him. He had not missed a drop.  
  
“Good boy.” The Emperor patted his cheek, looking down at him with a smirk before he rose to his feet. He dragged the captive back up off of his back and onto his knees again, which made him gasp, still sputtering from the punishing pace set by the man's cock. Then all he could see in his line of sight was a pair of boots, which made to step away from him, moving towards the large bed on the other side of the room. He gave a start, raising his eyes to watch the hated form of Emperor Hux proceed to ignore him completely. “Wait..” He managed to moan the word, squirming where he still knelt, hands painfully cuffed behind his back, cock throbbing more than ever for release. “ _Please.._.”  
  
The man turned to look over his shoulder, casting a cold glance at him as though he were an afterthought. “ _Ah._.. you want me to help you take care of that little _erection_ your sporting, hmm?” His feet turned back towards him, and Ben shivered in anticipation, his cock twitching at the thought that the man might finally _touch_ him again. “Well now... do you _deserve_ such attentions? Boy?”  
  
Ben bit his lip, gazing up at him with reluctance. His entire body was shaking with need, an insatiable burning driving him to the brink of madness. “I.. _please_.” He was aware of how pitiful his voice sounded, small and vulnerable even to his own ears. This seemed to please the ginger, his lips widening in a vicious grin, his boots finally bringing him back before the kneeling prisoner.  
  
“Well, only since you asked _so nicely_.” Ben watched as the man's hand reached down to grasp him by the leash, close to the infernal collar around his neck, giving him a sharp yank upwards, causing him to stumble forwards to his feet. His hands still bound, he almost couldn't manage it, and his captor made no effort to help him. When he was standing, still shaking, the man dragged him across the room by the neck towards the bed.  
  
He watched as the ginger sat down, facing him and eyeing him with the ferocity of a predator sizing up it's prey. Then, he felt him reach forward, grasping his cock in hand once more, sending shots of pleasure through him that made him cry out again in sudden ecstasy. Tears pricked at his eyes at the sensation as he felt the man's skilled fingers remove the cockring and toss it aside, clattering to the floor. Then the feel of leather wrapped around the shaft, just tight enough to provide stimulation. His other hand wrapped the leash around itself, pulling him so he was bent over, forced to lean towards him.  
  
“I'm going to allow you to use my hand to jerk yourself off. _You will do the work._ ” His eyes widened as he looked at the man sitting with a casual air of smugness before him. His hand grasping his cock, but not moving. He bit his lip again, this time hard enough to flood his mouth with the taste of blood. It was humiliating, beyond degrading, but _oh_ how his body needed some form of release.  
  
“Take it or leave it. It's all your getting.” He whimpered as he heard the Emperor's cold words, and before he knew it his hips were moving, desperate to cum despite his feelings. Or perhaps because of them... he looked down at the intent stare the man was fixing him with, the way the man's eyes never left his body, taking in every movement and every quake. He felt a rush of pride flush his cheeks. He was _desired._.. he was _admired_. As he rutted his cock in and out of the man's tight grip he moaned aloud, letting his gasps of pleasure fall from his lips, wanton and needy.  
  
“I'm being _very_ gracious in allowing you this privilege, I hope you realize. _Thank me_.” The euphoric state he was floating in was interrupted by a wave of anger, his eyes snapping open and burning with rage as he looked at the man with disbelief. This man had degraded, used, and humiliated him. Had forced him to bare himself at his most vulnerable and intimate, and he wanted to be _thanked_ for it? His teeth clenched in protest, even as he continued to thrust himself into the man's hand.  
  
He watched as the Emperor's tongue darted out, licking his lips before speaking again. “I do _not_ have to allow this, boy. I could just as soon put that ring back on you, chain you, and leave you in a cell to spend the night _alone_ , writhing in agony.” The threat was accompanied by a tightening of the man's grip, making his thrusts just this side of painful. He gasped as he considered the possibility, helpless to stop himself from meeting the man's demands.  
  
“No.. no please..”  
  
“Then _thank_ your _Emperor._ ” The man's expression was a mixture of bored disinterest and cruelty, gazing at him as though he were an object, here for his entertainment, and nothing more. The captive's jaw clenched, unclenched, his hands curling into fists behind him even as he continued to rut.  
“Th..thank you.” The words whispered through gritted teeth, glaring daggers at the man who held his fate in his hands. Hux jerked on the leash, making him gasp aloud in pain, his body lurching forwards.  
  
“Thank you _what?_ ” His voice had turned harsh, the bridge of his nose crinkling in displeasure as he returned the angered stare. The boy was cowed, too close to cumming to continue pushing his luck. He knew the proper address the man was expecting. His lips parted as he felt the friction pushing him closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy, his entire body tight and on edge. “Thank you _my Lord Emperor!_ ”  
  
The Emperor smiled, watching him as he let up on the leash, allowing him more freedom of movement. “Good boy...” His voice cooed at him in encouragement, and Ben felt a rush of relief. Yes.. _he could be good._.. the man was _gentler_ with him when he was good. He gave him _pleasure_ if he was good. He looked at him with lust and desire and _approval_ if he was good. His emotions were a whirlwind, rushing through him, propelling him forward. His thrusts began to quicken, meeting the man's gloved hands with a wanton abandon. The room was filled with the sounds of his whimpering panting and moans.  
  
When he came, he screamed. Hours of pent up desire, arousal without relief, came crashing through him. It was almost painful, waves of euphoric sensation rushing through his body. His back arched as much as it could despite the leash holding him in place, his toes curling and his arms stiffening, pulling against the cuffs for purchase. Strings of white shot out of him, flowing over the man's hand and splashing over his own stomach. He shook, trembling from the force of the orgasm, sputtering and gasping for breath. His legs gave out from under him, his softening cock slipping from the man's hand as he fell to his knees before him. Head bowed, eyes averted.  
  
The Emperor watched the entire ordeal. His eyes gazing intently on the display of lust and virility. The way the boy's body had propelled itself, almost apart from his conscious thought, just like an animal rutting in heat. The way his muscles had clenched, showing off all of his beautifully sculpted physic. He could feel his own cock half stiffening again just at the sight of it. And when the boy had cum, screaming aloud in agonized ecstasy, the expressions of vulnerable desire on his face, the way his lush lips parted and his eyes closed. The way the boy collapsed before him afterwards, exhausted and spent, finally docile and ready to be compliant.  
  
He put his hand in front of his face, and the boy saw the stark contrast of white against black. Felt the warm wetness as it was pressed to his lips. “Lick it off.” The Emperor's commanding voice rang through his mind, and in a daze from the aftermath of his orgasm he did not think to refuse. His lips parted, his tongue darting out to lap at the man's hand. The taste of cum, salty and bitter, flooded him, his stomach turning within him. He moaned as he swallowed, shaking and desperate for more, more of that beautiful approval he had felt. When he had licked every drop off of the man's hand, the taste of leather taking over his senses, he found himself leaning in, the Emperor's hand caressing his cheek as though he were a beloved pet.  
  
“Helpless is a good look for you, boy. It suits you.” The man's sardonic voice cut through him, eliciting a mixture of indignation and pride that flushed his face red. “You have made a _wonderful_ start. I think your _re-education_ won't take too long after all.” The man reached forward, around his body, unclipping the cuffs and releasing his hands. His sore arms came around to his front in an instance, gasping at the feeling of the sudden freedom of movement. They ached from the long restriction, tingling as blood rushed back into them.  
  
He watched as gloved hands clipped the leash to the post of the bed. The leash was left long, long enough that he had some freedom, though not long enough that he could stand fully. The man's hand pointed to the floor. “You may sleep on the rug. But please trust, if you cause _any_ kind of trouble, I will throw you into a cell that will be _much less comfortable_.”  
  
His breathing was beginning to return to normal, his body still thrumming with the strain of the past hours. Everything in him wanted to collapse. The Emperor rose to his feet, no longer deigning to pay him any notice as he removed his clothes. As his naked body was revealed, lithe and tight, Ben's eyes widened. Under any other circumstance, he would have had to admit the man was devastatingly beautiful, slim body with perfect form and tight muscles. He watched as he folded his garments, neatly setting them aside. A flick of a switch and the lights were out. The man got into bed with no further regard for the captive on his floor. It was the most infuriating kind of arrogance... here he had a known enemy in his room, and he had absolutely no doubt that he was safe. He had stripped naked before him, gotten into bed, and promptly fallen asleep, as though to drive home the fact that _he_ was the one with the power here. He did not fear his prisoner.  
  
And despite the precarious nature of his own situation, Ben soon found himself falling into sleep as well. His body was exhausted, the stress of he day catching up with him. The hard floor beneath him could not hinder his need for rest. Within moments, he too was fast asleep.

 


	3. Chapter 3

“Wake up, boy.”   
  
Ben awoke with a start to the feel of a boot pressed against his cheek, tilting up his chin. As his eyes focused he found himself staring into the cold gaze of Emperor Hux himself, dressed in refinery. His icy eyes bore into him where he lay on the floor, the cool air around him making him shiver as his mind began to clear of the fog of sleep.  
  
“On your feet. _Now._ ” At some point while he slept, the leash had been disconnected from the collar, leaving him with more room for movement. He felt a rush of a confused daze as he roused himself, pulling himself up first to his knees and then to his feet. As his muscles screamed from the movement, stiff and sore, the events of the previous day came to him in a wave, and he felt heat rise upon his face. His eyes fell upon the ground, unable to turn his gaze to the Emperor standing before him, afraid he would see the man's eyes staring into his soul again, breaking his will and making him go weak at the knees.  
  
The red haired man circled him, his hands held in military position behind his back, his eyes roaming his form and appraising him as he went. Then his hands were grasped, the cuffs linked together to restrain him, though there was more lenience in the length than there had been yesterday.   
“Just in case you start getting some bright ideas...” His hand came up to pat him with a condescending smile on the cheek. Ben looked up, a glower storming in his eyes, but it was much calmer. Less out of control.   
  
“You seem to be in a more docile mood... amazing what a little rest will do.” The Emperor's voice was mocking, a glimmer of sardonic amusement dancing in his eyes as he reached out to grasp his cock. Ben gasped at the sudden intimate touch, his face flushing hot at just how casual the man considered such a thing. As though it wasn't a massive intrusion of his body and personal agency. The man took what he pleased without giving it a second thought, touching his cock as casually as though he were putting his hand on his shoulder.  
  
Then he felt the cold surface of metal and the clink of a lock. Looking down he recoiled from the man, trying to back up or pull away, as he saw a metal cage locked around him. It was black steel, red tinges on the edges to match the collar around his neck. It engulfed him, presented the head as though it were an offering, and trapped the rest within striped bars. Rage filled his eyes as he felt that familiar rush of emotion, chaotic and impulsive, jerking his head up to meet the man's stare. “Fuck no!”  
  
The Emperor seemed unconcerned as he reached forward to grasp him by the scruff of the neck, reeling him in close to whisper in his ear. “Careful, _boy._ The cage can easily be exchanged for a _ring_.”  
That settled him. His heart began to beat hard in his chest at the memory of the previous night. Hours spent hard and throbbing, desperate for release with none to be found. The ginger waved a silver key in his face before pocketing the object with a sly smirk. “Either way, you will not be achieving any kind of gratification without it suiting _my_ pleasure.”  
  
He gave him a rough push towards the door, the swish of the mechanical entrance sounding as it opened out into the hallway. Although he was easily several inches taller than the man, the Emperor had no trouble manhandling him however he chose, his slight figure deceptive in it's hiding of his rather impressive strength. Before Ben had a chance to launch another complaint, he was shoved out the door and into the hallway.  
  
The air was cold on his bare skin, and he found himself feeling much more exposed and vulnerable than he had the last time. The previous day, kicking and struggling his way through the halls, he was less aware of the humiliation of his own nudity. He had worn his anger and his rage like a shield, and stripped of that, he was truly naked.   
  
He knew in some way that this was intentional. He was being paraded around in nothing but gold jewellery and a cock cage in order to _humiliate_ him. Make him feel smaller. Rob him of a sense of self and propriety. So he squared his shoulders and refused to let the man at his side see how terribly exposed he felt as they passed the troopers and the officers on duty. But he could not stop the red blush that crept across his skin whenever the eyes of one of the men lingered on him, cruel smirks and unabashedly lust filled gazes roaming his skin and taking in his form. Every person they passed had a predatory look about them, as though the entire star base wanted to devour him whole.   
  
The Emperor walked beside him, setting a fast and clipped pace that he had to push himself to keep up with. He considered digging in his heels. Refusing to walk. Making a bolt for it. Nothing really seemed like a viable plan. He needed an opportunity, and at the current moment there were none available. So he continued to walk beside the insufferable man, with nothing more than a glare in his direction every so often. He didn't know where he was being led. He didn't care.   
  
The hallways were white and sterile. Just like he remembered. The entire station was an ordered affair, modern and sleek. Not a thing out of place. He had heard that the Emperor ran a tight ship, and that at least was apparently quite accurate. Everyone they passed immediately bowed, some lower than others depending on their ranks. Everything was in order.  
  
The man leading him did not speak during the journey, and he did not want to be the one to break the silence. He would be damned if he let his captor see even a hint of his discomfort. So they walked without speaking through the large complex. The vastness of the corridors and winding turns, lifts and passages was astounding, but the Emperor moved through it with purpose, every twist and turn long committed to memory. Hell, even if he did manage to escape from the man now, Ben was sure he would be endlessly lost.  
  
Eventually they came to a room on a landing set high above a wider commons area. As the door swished open, Emperor Hux stood aside and gestured him into it, giving him a pointed look. He stepped into the room past the doors, and took in the contents. There was a large picture window overlooking the men below. A table laid with various sinister looking tools and implements. And an interrogation chair. He recognized that at least, and a shiver ran down his spine as the ginger's hand reached out to once again grasp him by the back of the neck, roughly pushing him towards it.  
  
“Turn around.” A switch was flipped, opening the restraints as Ben was shoved into it, his body being forcibly spun so his back was fitted into the man sized slot. His hands and legs coming to rest in the manacles. Hux's hands went to work immediately at securing him into it. He fought down the urge to fight, to resist, to struggle. He knew he would be overcome eventually, even if he managed to run, and there was no point wasting energy. The metal clamps held him in place, the ominous sound of clanking locks hitting his ears.  
  
“ _I won't tell you anything._ ” He spat the words at the man, anger and vitriol spewing from his lips as he glared at him. Putting a brave face to the fear he was feeling constricting his chest and making his heart beat like a drum. The man only laughed, his mouth twisting in vicious mockery.   
“Oh... is _that_ why you think I've brought you here? To _interrogate_ you?” His hand stroked a lazy line over the curve of his cheek, smooth leather caressing his skin. “Believe me, boy. By the time I start asking you questions, you will already be _eating out of my hand like a dog_.”  
  
The man stepped aside from him to busy himself at the table, moving through the various implements, selecting tools and adjusting his gloves. He spoke offhanded, as though to himself. “No... I don't need anything from you today... except perhaps your _screams_.” The captive's heart began to race at those words, fear clouding his mind as he considered the implications. The man wasn't even about to interrogate him. There was nothing to be strong for. Nothing to hold onto his courage and dignity for. Somehow the idea that his captor was about to hurt him, torture him, for the sheer _pleasure of it,_ and not to try to draw out any Rebellion secrets, made him more afraid. The man wasn't trying to _learn_ anything from him. He was trying to _break_ him.  
  
He pulled against the restraints again as his stomach clenched in fear and apprehension. Watched as the man turned towards him, a cotton swath and a bowl of strong smelling liquid in hand. He frowned, the man dipping the swath into the bowl before reaching forward to drag it across his abdomen, the space right above his caged manhood. The liquid was cold to the touch and made him flinch.  
  
“What.. what are you doing?” The words left his lips with a tremor of uncertainty, fear clawing at his chest and making his throat close around his breath. The corner of the Emperor's lip tugged upwards at that, the ghost of an amused smirk beginning to spread. “Not quite your place to ask, is it?” He turned again to the table, setting the bowl down once more. Ben tried to strain his neck to see what he was doing, but the man's back hid his movements from sight.  
  
“Do you see that banner there, hanging beside the Imperial flag?” The boy's eyes went to the wall in front of him, taking in the two red sheets. One was a symbol he was familiar with, the black and white design one that all in the Galaxy recognized with fear and hatred. The other was less well known, but just as reviled, a black and red hexagon with a pronged circle in the centre. The Emperor did not wait for an answer from him before continuing in a conversational tone of voice. “That is my family crest. It goes back generations in my line, and is now the most powerful symbol in all of the Galaxy.”  
  
For a moment the boy had trouble understanding why the Emperor was talking about it, what it had to do with anything. Then he watched with growing horror as the man turned around, a red hot implement in hand. The same symbol was emblazoned on the end of it, just as red as the one on the flag. Understanding washed over him as he realized with an agonized gasp what was about to happen. As the man approached him, he pulled against the manacles that held him in place, fear beginning to cloud his mind and his vision. “No.. no nonono! No _please_ no!”  
  
The man was beside him in an instant, and he could feel the sweltering heat radiating off of the branding iron. He squirmed, pulled, struggled, but it was no use. He was fast in place. “ _Shh shh.._. be a good boy now, this will only hurt... well, for some time if I'm honest.” A gloved hand reached for his face, fingers brushing over his lips before being pushed into his mouth. He tried to bite down, but the leather clad fingers were pushing deeper into him, down his throat, making him gag and choke. And then he felt it.  
  
Pain erupted across his skin as he felt the burning iron pressed directly into his flesh. He screamed, or attempted to, the howls of agony muffled as the man's hand held him still, fingers gagging his mouth with a firm grasp. His body went tight, back arching as he struggled to cry out, chest heaving from the strain as his stomach clenched. The room seemed to spin, the smell of burning flesh filling his nostrils. His world, for the few seconds it lasted, was pain. Time seemed to stretch out before him, seconds turning into agonizing minutes, his vision turning and his eyes watering.  
  
The iron was pulled away and the hand released his mouth, saliva wetting his lips. He gasped for breath, his screams turning to whimpers of torment. Pain was still lancing it's way through him, though the worst of it had now abated. As he choked and sputtered he made a last show of strength, pulling his hands against the manacles and glaring at the man who had caused him such affliction. Who had branded him as his property.   
  
“ _Fuck you_... you don't _own_ me.” He spoke through gritted teeth, spitting rage and indignation. He knew what the mark signified. The brand might as well have been words etched in his skin. _'Property of Emperor Hux, do not touch.'_ He felt a rush of air as the man unlocked the manacles, pulling him off of the interrogation table by the scruff of his neck. He was marched towards the window, his body slammed against it in a whirl of motion, the man's lips close to his ear as he pressed his body against the captive's.  
  
“Do you see those men?” The Emperor's voice hissed in his ear, and he looked down through the window at the various people, the squadrons of ordered soldiers, marching through the complex like the denizens of a hive. “ _Every single one of them_ would eagerly _slit their own throats_ at my command.” The hand on his neck tightened, driving home just how little power he had here. “I have destroyed worlds, _entire star systems._ My enemies fall in fear at my feet and _cower_ before me. I own _everything_ in this entire Galaxy, boy. And _you_ simply get the privilege of serving on a much more intimate level, but don't make the _mistake_ of thinking that you _ever_ did _not_ belong to me.”  
  
He was released with a rough thrust towards the window, the man stepping away from him and adjusting his clothes, dusting his gloves. Ben felt the ground rush up to meet him as his head, still reeling in pain, lost focus for a moment, threatening to black out. Within seconds he found himself on his knees, panting for breath. He was barely aware of the sound of the door swishing open before he looked up to see an Imperial officer standing with a box held out. The Emperor had stepped away from him to inspect it's contents; elaborate and beautifully crafted jewellery. Silver. Just like he had promised. And a silver circular name tag which he held aloft between his fingertips for a moment before nodding his approval.  
  
“Get the new brand tended to so it heals properly and have him redressed. Send him back to my chambers when it is done, I'll see to him this evening.” He turned to shoot one last look at the boy, trembling on the floor.   
  
“Welcome to the Empire, _Kylo Ren._ ”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! It was an honor to be a part of the Kylux Big Bang :D  
> Thank you so much to the mods for making this happen, and to @kyluxmagnus for the beautiful artwork!!
> 
> I LIVE for your feedback, so please let me know what you think! Your comments go a long way to motivate me to keep writing!


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